


Please, Don't You Leave Me Too

by blueemissary (ziraphalez)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Hallucinations, Hurt Thor (Marvel), M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Protective Bruce Banner, Protective Hulk (Marvel), Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16030883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ziraphalez/pseuds/blueemissary
Summary: Thor gets hit with a powerful hallucinogen and is haunted by the ghosts of the ones he has lost... and reassured by the one he has yet to lose.---Prompt:"Hey, I'm with you, okay? Always."





	Please, Don't You Leave Me Too

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ancalime1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancalime1/gifts).



> This was gonna be some supportive fluff with a little h/c but then...
> 
> ~~Also, I don't know if you guys have noticed but I absolutely suck at titles skdfh.~~

Everything is... fuzzy. That’s the only word his feeble mind can grasp at right now, as blobs of many shapes and colours blur together, rising above him as he sinks to the floor.  

He doesn’t remember how he got here. He doesn’t know where ‘here’ even is. 

It’s grey. That’s all he knows. Just a never ending blanket of grey, wrapping around him. Suffocating him.

Then there’s the green. Bright, beautiful, emerald green. 

Towering above him. Mocking him. 

It leans forward and Thor squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, shielding them from the much-too-bright blot of colour as it stands out in the dark grey.

When he opens them, he sees a figure.

“Loki?”

Loki is also grey. Face ashen and pale; he looks hollow and sickly. And yet somehow he doesn’t waver as he should with any obvious weakness. Instead he he stands tall above Thor and without a word steps forward, coming just within touching distance.

Then suddenly, he’s everywhere.

It’s a classic trick. Thor smirks a little as he swipes at the apparitions’ legs, too weak to stand but overcome with the need to be rid of these doubles, to see the real Loki. Thrashing and rolling on the ground, the smirk soon drops into a scowl of frustration as he reaches out to each of them, as each time, just as his hand touches them, they disappear.

The last three spectral shades of his brother are too far for him to reach and he collapses onto his back, defeated, head turned to the side so that he can watch as they merge back into one. The real Loki comes closer and kneels down next to his head, eyes bright with something like curiosity and… is that sorrow?

Thor wonders what Loki sees that would put such an expression on his face. With as much effort he can muster he reaches out to catch Loki’s hand...

But he feels nothing. Without warning, he is alone again.

Panic wells up within him and he calls, shouts, screams for Loki to come back. A different voice answers him.

“He’s dead, my friend, my King. We are all dead.”

Heimdall? Thor tries to say but chokes instead on the sudden thick cloud of golden dust that swirls around him.

“Foolish boy.”

It’s Odin that taunts him. Words said over a thousand years coming back for him. Selfish. Arrogant. A failure as the protector of Asgard and the realms.

Yes, he failed that in the most spectacular way possible.

“All dead.” Hela mocks him, voice loud and clear in his ear. And yet nowhere in sight.

Thor feels sick and he splutters some more on the gold dust. It feels like it’s shredding into his lungs, making them tight and painful, so painful in a way that he’s never felt this intensely before. 

He tries to escape it. Legs useless, he begins dragging himself by his hands across the harsh floor. The skin splits with every movement but it is nowhere near as painful as the feeling in his chest, his head. It’ll be worth it if he can get away.

Suddenly, he hits a wall. No, he corrects himself, it’s a creature, sturdy and hard but, yes, warm with life. Something familiar nags in his mind but he can barely remember what he was running from. Whatever this creature is, it’s preventing him from continuing any more. Fists pound against the strong arms -- arms three, maybe four times the size of his own -- that wrap around his aching chest. They squeeze him tightly, crushing him. Now there really is no escape. Surely, they’re going to kill him.

 _Perhaps this is for the best._ The thought whispers temptingly.

He goes limp, allowing the grey and the now much closer, much bigger blot of brilliant green to fade away into blackness.

…

Hulk sets Thor down gently, far away from the strange smoking pit that he had fallen into, and removes the large cloth from around his face. Banner had advised it. Planted an idea in the back of his mind that maybe, just maybe, even the invincible Hulk would be no match for an alien hallucinogenic gas that was proven powerful enough to take down Thor. And Hulk, while reluctant, had agreed.

 _Good job_. Banner sounds grudgingly impressed and Hulk feels just a little triumphant about the otherwise terrifying situation. Very gently, he pokes and readjusts Thor into a more comfortable position than his original unconscious flop. A finger, large enough to cover half of Thor’s face alone, gently brushes a few tears away from the corner of the sleeping god’s eye.

It’s Banner’s turn now. They both agree.

The shrinking is slightly less painful than usual, with no battle for dominance prolonging it. Once settled (breathing heavily but recovering) Bruce drags himself to sit by Thor’s side. The cloth from Hulk’s face he bundles up into a small cushion and gently slides it under Thor’s head.

Then it’s a waiting game. Bruce keeps himself propped up tiredly, cold stone behind his back juxtaposing the warmth of Thor’s hand, fingers which he keeps loosely tangled with his own.

There’s some muttering. Nightmares, most likely. But nothing violent.

A deep, stuttering intake of breath and Thor’s eyes crack open minutely. Bruce leans over him with concern and he sees the pain in Thor’s expression. Combined with the glassy look in his eyes, Bruce surmises that Thor is not fully conscious yet.

“Bruce…” Thor breathes and it sounds like a groan. “You…” His eyes scrunch shut for a moment, which seems to do nothing for him when he opens them again. “You’re not here...are you?”

Baffled and alarmed, Bruce gapes his mouth like a fish out of water. “Thor --”

He’s cut off by a pained sob from Thor that sounds so wrong that Bruce feels a physical pain in his heart. Tears spring back up in Thor’s eyes, fresh and hot and he brings Bruce’s hand up to them, pressing it firmly against his forehead, eyes squeezed shut once more. “Please,” he chokes, “...please, Bruce, don’t leave me too.”

“Hey,” Bruce, squeezes his hand around Thor’s and with his other, uses his thumb to tenderly wipe the streaks of grime and salt working down Thor’s cheeks. “I’m with you, okay?” Leaning down, he kisses Thor’s eyelids, tasting salt but also feeling them relax a little as Thor slips back into unconsciousness. “Always.”

They stay in this spot for several hours until help finally arrives; Thor, curled up and muttering, softly and unintelligibly as he fights against the horrors he sees inside his head.And with Bruce sitting as his guard, exhausted but ready to protect him from the one’s that still prowl outside of it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [tumblr ](https://asgardianbruce.tumblr.com/)


End file.
